


Skyrim-Brief Separation

by strayraccoon



Series: Skyrim - Awkward Affections [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strayraccoon/pseuds/strayraccoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skyforge mourned that evening, embers dimmed in reverence to Whiterun's beloved Harbinger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skyrim-Brief Separation

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't plan this to become series, so forgive the timelines.  
> (re-upload from DeviantArt)

Original page [here](http://rinnkruskov.deviantart.com/art/Skyrim-Brief-Separation-511852346)  
  
Skyforge mourned that evening, as its pyre shaped no steel the Companions unleashed against their enemy. Instead the ancestral forge was tasked into cremating honored remains of recently deceased Harbinger. He slipped his mortal coil as he slumber, an end none could predict for the well loved figure was laughing alongside new bloods earlier the day he departed. He even tested aspiring whelps in the training ground alongside other Inner Circle members. 

The figure laid upon stacks of wood was one very much endeared by many. Those in the Companions respected him. His prowess in battle was not for the doubt, sheer strength as he wielded battleaxe, unwavering voice commanding new bloods and veterans alike during battlers, unshattering valor none could match. None shed a tear for the Harbinger they know and love for he had departed for Sovngarde, wherein his bravery and valor would be celebrated alongside forlorn heroes for time to come. There will be time when the previous Harbinger's valor reduced to mere myth, but within the gilded mead hall his deeds would be sung forever after.

Other masses such as Jarl of Whiterun , officers and other dignitaries as well as acquitances who knew the deseaced gathered around the pyre as well. Serene and respectful of the Companions honoring old tradition, performing the 'flame ceremony' instead of more popularembalment and entombment. A sword in his hands, facing downwards. Wolf armor polished to the best of smith's ability. Peaceful expression upon time consumed visage that looked like he was merely sleeping. Alas such lofty idea invalid as the honorable Nord had long since stopped breathing.

There were those risking treading upon snow covered roads under harsh winter to attend. People who had fought besides the honored one many years before. A mage for hire sans magical artifact researcher, was the first to arrive after hearing the news.  Dunmer priestchoosing Mara over Azura, clad in dark yellow priest robes. Both stood by the pyre alongside the senior members of the Companions, as per request from the successor. An empty space deliberately shared between them indicating another acquiantance that should be attending. No, they were hoping the said person would come and take the place between them. 

None of them spoke in the presence of the deceased, bidding their time as the guests and Companions members alike await the last member to appear before the ceremony could begin. He had gone to Ysgrammor's tomb as part of the ritual, and only the individual reserve the honor of igniting the funeral pyre. The Dunmer Mara priest looked around the host as he recognized a familiar presence. Someone he supported years ago, someone he promised aiding in hand joining should the opportunity arose. He looked at the mage for hire standing beside Whiterun court mage and he nodded solemnly, as the Imperial felt such presence as well. Both respectfully stayed where they stood.

Small figure clad in dark cloak, hood covering most of his head, mingled amongst the crowd without anyone noticing. Few of the children attending looked behind their shoulders and found the ebony cloaked visitor looming over them, but said nothing after he waved at the younger audience cheerfully. As if signaling them that he was not a foe to be feared. Alas none of the older host felt such intimidating presence.

Another figure entered the vicinity, a bigger and battle hardened one instead of visiting locales. A Nord whose visage was splitting image of the deceased approached Skyforge, taking his place in the opening between masses. A torch was in his hands,burning brightly as Skyforge pyre did. Despite having similar appearance, the younger twin had gentler profile compared to the deseaced. A figure equally loved both within and outside the Companions, and the one previous Harbinger chose to be his successor. 

'Y _ou'd lead them well, brother. Better than I did. Your heart is in the right place_ '  

Farkas remembered the last word his elder twin uttered before he descend into a slumber he never woke up from. Tears had dried from his grey eyes that night as the younger wolf decided to be strong as he addressed the gathering mass, eager to listen to parting words from a mourning brother both in blood and deed. Words were never his forte. 

'My brother was a good man' said Farkas, newest Harbinger by the previous one's choice. 

'He, alongside Dovahkiin, ended the black dragon that frightened us so. He led a march against vampires. He defended Whiterun from bandits. He was brother first before Harbinger to me. No words could do his deed justice. My loss is your loss. But today do not mourn his mortal flesh but celebrate his joining the ranks of heroes in Sovngarde. May they raise tankards in his name as they sing our beloved's worldly deed' 

Flames burned brightly, mixture of bright crimson and sunburst under starry sky. A clear sky impossible to have considering heavy storm descending upon Skyrim central region day prior. One would think it's a blessing from Kynareth himself. Masses and visiting dignitaries turned and left the perimeter soon enough, not before expressing their condolences to a mourning brother. Leaving those closest to the elder wolf lingering by funeral pyre, watchings as his mortal coil fed the flames.  

Curiously the figure clad in black robes remained, despite his fellow onlooker had sought warmth in local tavern. Both the Dunmer priest and Imperial mage approached the smaller  guest and tapped his shoulders before descending stairs leading to Skyforge. He jilted as warm hands covered his shoulders gently, sincere and relieved smile beaming from the two men, uttering no words as they departed.

 Making sure none other was in the vicinity, the younger wolf addressed the mysterious figure. As elusive as she was, he had recognized her right away from how she brought herself. Harbinger's lover, a sister to Farkas,and fabled Dragonborn. Taking off the hood, revealing a face long forgotten. A youthfulvisage of a comely Nord woman, who fought bravely during the world's prophecied end. Proving such words could be broken. 'You said you weren't good with words. I'm honestly touched by your speech' 

'I still am, I copied what Aela said when Kodlak died . You haven't changed at all, sister' said the new Harbinger as he observed his long lost sister. Appearance not changing, as if not a day had passed after her last flight off Whiterun right before her untimely disappearance. The only significant change was her hair was silverite instead of wheat blonde. Eyes golden instead of emerald green.  

Upon further observation her complexion was extremely pale, color drained from her very flesh. The moment the Nord 'girl' opened her mouth, Farkas noticed sharp fangs amongst white teeth. Revelation dawned upon him then, a fact his brother elected to keep his whole life, the truth about Dovahkiin's disappearance. That she had turned into blood sucking monster the Companions despise.

'Indeed, and I apologize' answered the woman with countenance younger than she was. Her voice did not change either. Only her tone was sadder and heavier compared to the skylark chirping around Jorrvaskr. 

'I take it you have spoken with brother?' asked Farkas, knowing the woman Vilkas loved his whole life would capable of sneaking into Companions living quarters undetected. After all many occassions allowed her to utilize her invisibility spell, reversing any disadvantageous situation. 

The Nord mage answered, 'Yes, I was there when he passed' her voice broke off, tears started flowing off her golden orbs. Cheeks soon wettened from unstoppable stream. Farkas pulled the shivering figure into an embrace, a gesture reserved for siblings not lovers. The younger wolf loved the Nord woman as a brother would to his sister. She who should have been true sister bound in blood.  

'You did not turn him, I am eternally grateful for that' said Farkas after the two broke off and tears dried off the Vampire Lord's face. Both faced the burning pyre then, watching as the wood crumbled into pieces. Flesh and bones turned into ashes. 'Why? You could have…'  
  
The mage spun on one leg, revealing violet mage apprentice robe beneath darker cloak. Took no genius to realize it was the very same attire she wore when the younger twin met her outside Whiterun. Killing giant prowling about local farm for the first time, a chance meeting leading to fast friendship. She let out a sigh then, 'He deserves Sovngarde, brother. Not Coldharbour where I'm bound to'  
  
 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sitting by the edge of the Harbinger's bed, the former Whiterun Thane shifted her weight many a times as she was giddy. Both in excitement and worry for she know not what to say the moment the aforementioned Harbinger returned to his quarters. Dovahkiin, who had gone missing decades ago, made a vow to herself that she would not visit Whiterun ever again. Especially sneaking into Jorrvaskr, knowing the best vampire hunter and warriors in the land gathered there. A vow she herself curiously broken that evening. The woman had an inclination for a visit after all the years she spent alone, for a reason unknown even to her.  

'By Ysmir!!' cursed familiar voice as the Harbinger entered his assigned quarters, finding a young woman unchanged after many decades passing sitting casually on his bed. He proceeded to close the door leading into Jorrvaskr living quarters, locking the double doors the moment they closed. 

Gentle hand knocked the wooden door behind Vilkas then, a muffled concerned voice spoke 'Brother, are you okay?' 

'Nothing. Just a rat. ' answered the elder wolf, eyes locked to the mage's. One hand covering her mouth and another placed upon her belly. Her frame bent forward, fighting fiercely against uncouth loud snort. Vilkas pressed his armored back onto the wooden doors, as if afraid his younger would bash through it. Such feat was not impossible for him, being the stronger one of the twin. ' _A big one_ ' 

'Told you to off that pet skeever of yours, dear brother' commented Farkas before he left the vicinity, truly believing his brother was hunting skeever in his own quarters.  

Returning his attention to the visiting woman, Vilkas crossed his arms in defiance as he did in the past whenever the two engaged in a debate none of the Companions but Kodlak Whitemane could break off. Silently grateful for vampiric disease keeping their mortal flesh youthful as he found the old flame of his life pleasing to the eye. No, he loved her still. 

Even after what transpired between them, such as Vilkas attempted for her life in previous vampire attack. None of Skyrim denizen cared for politicking within Volkihar's court. All they cared about that they could sleep soundly in their dreaming hour without the fear figures looming over them. Excited at the prospect of burying their bloody fangs into necks. Savoring each droplet of blood of their hapless victim. Even more so finding themselves locked in a cage somewhere they did not recognize, cursing their fate as they slowly turned into mindless slave whose role was merely satisfying their master's whim. 

'A big rat indeed' continued Vilkas as he sat beside his paramour, visiting him despite the danger she could pose to herself and perhaps others. 'To what honor I deserve this visit, milady?' 

The last ruler of Volkihar vampires stopped laughing then, still clutching cloths covering her front due to pain from unstoppable humor. 'Honestly? I have no idea, all of sudden an urge to visit an old friend overcame me. Should have I said that I wanted to see you badly?' 

Vilkas grimaced then, 'Perish the thought woman, such does not suit you at all' 

'Thought so' said Dovahkiin as she shrugged. 'You're not one for nostalgia, damned wolf' 

'How goes your hunt, sister?' asked the Harbinger. 

'Whatever do you mean, brother wolf?' 

'Spare me, I've been following your activities around Tamriel.' The elder wolf had ways his predecessors would disapprove to gather information, one he willingly crossed in order to keep tab on opposing forces. Especially a certain elusive vampire lord that escaped previous Companions attack in their own stronghold. Volkihar castle had been vacant ever since, no other would bother visiting nor claiming the master-less keep for themselves. Not even vagabonds and bandits seeking refuge. They prefer risking local guards and mercenaries along the road. 

Even before the attack on Volkihar castle Vilkas knew of the truth behind it. Such bloodied feast was not of her court for she made sure the vampires serving under her take only what they need and not a drop more. Few of those not satisfied of such policy broke off contact and hunt on their own. Once again dawning terror upon Imperial northern province. Masses quickly blamed the Volkihars, whom made their presence known during last battle against the doomed Dawnguards. The revered company of warriors were hired to end their presence in Skyrim then. Vilkas had no choice but to comply, duty before one's need. His feelings on the issue mattered not.

The battle between vampire forces and the Companions were grim indeed, as numbers felled upon both side raised into staggering number. The elder wolf himself chased Volkihar's King, or Queen in that case, into their base. Only to find the keep empty save for a giggling girl sitting upon a throne that was clearly crafted for someone bigger than she was. A pair of dread cerberus prowled about her, growling in the Harbinger's presence. He knew then. None of her court member was responsible for the second vampiric outbreak. The absence of her councils was proof enough. Where they went none knew and no contacts Vilkas made managed to track down such lofty company. 

Battling the girl, Vilkas disregarded his own affection for the Vampire Lord. Surprisingly bothered not transforming into grotesque form her brethren takes pride in. He needed to battler her, Skyrim needed it. The mass needed a corpse to spat upon, a figure to blame , a black sheep whites would gladly despise. The fight seemed endless despite they merely dance under northern moonlight. In the end it was a stalemate whence blades met each other's throat, yet none of them could bury cold steel into the others. Shadow snatched the girl away then, another presence Vilkas had elected to ignore took her into a flight he could not follow. 

Since then he had hunted for the Nord woman, and found trails of her activity across various region in Tamriel. It was not surprising when he found out she was hunting blood suckers alone. 'You're on quite a rampage, young lady. Seems like I missed quite the dance you had with your 'brethren'' . Slight hateful tone surfaced as Vilkas breathed out the word 'brethren' , knowing that the creatures took his beloved away from him. From the warmth he could offer, for a better life she could have led. 

'Blame no one, brother. T'is I brought upon myself. I could have declined but I did not. For fear or fascination I could not remember. Would it please you if I said I did not enjoy the embrace at --' her words stopped midway as gloved hands touched her cheeks gently, contrast to strong grip upon battle axe's handle by the day. Forehead met forehead in pure affection. Fleeting moments passed in eternity as the two simply found warmth and comfort in each other's presence. 'It's not like you at all, should I be wary?' 

'Decades ago, perhaps. My flames died long ago. Alongside a woman who remained untouched until this day' answered the aged Harbinger, yet to the Nord mage he adored so much, he appeared as he was. Scowling youth disagreeing to whatever a certain new blood with magical prowess would do. Both missed such idyllic days whence they'd bicker in the mead hall above, onlookers long since given up from reciprocating the unlikely pair. Exchanging words that might have wounded the others. 

'Perhaps there's good in your visiting, I suppose' said the Harbinger, smiling as he broke off the contact much to Dovahkiin's dismay. Leaving his seat , Vilkas headed for an end table. The younger woman's eyes widened as the man she loved so produced a small box from a hidden compartment hidden beneath the wooden end table. Within a box of modest appearance was a pair of silver rings adorned with amethyst. Her favorite gem of choice. 'Humor me to my first and final selfishness, my fair lady?' 

Not wasting the opportunity to jest about, the silver haired vampire answered , 'My oh my, but the great Harbinger surely cannot propose such thought, to a maiden nonetheless! An arch enemy to Skyrim denizen no less! What would people say?' half expecting the elder wolf would chastise her for delivering such a thoughtless banter. The scoff never came though, what she earned was none less than a smile brighter than sun itself. Gentle husked laugh, sincere not in mockery but pleasantness her jest brought. 

'Their opinion be damned. All that matters that my affection for you is well deserved, no?' 

'You're impossible' answered the woman with younger countenance, cheeks puffed as she pouted. Breaking eye contacts everytime she's annoyed with the elder wolf's attitude. Vilkas found it amusing for such an aged woman could be as childish as she was decades ago. Certainly a welcome change after their last exchange in Castle Volkihar wherein she appeared to accept her death willingly. Eyes devoid of emotion despite her colorful choice of words. Halfway through the fight she rediscovered her will to live and fought bravely, reminding him of the very same figure braving a dark dragon ten times larger and more menacing than a raging werewolf. 

Vilkas chuckled as he seat himself beside his long lost subject of affection once again, this time right next to her that their shoulders met. She did not shy away, much to Vilkas' amusement. 'Glad to see your humor returned, girl' 

'Returning to 'girl', are we? I'm OLD. In case you forgot. Sanguine Vampirism tends to keep their host fresh' jabbed the vampire lord, completely taken over by the Harbinger's flow at the time. 

'To me, you're a 'girl' who can't even maintain their emotion. What did I say about not striking blindly in a battlefield? Or are you put too much confidence in your… vampire blood? You left messy scenes, girl . It's a wonder nobody sent a hunter pursuing you. Not everyone you killed was slouching figure creeping around in a dark cave' 

'None of your business, wolf' she retorted. Wondering what happened to the sweet moment they had before, then the revelation dawned on her. Images of angry Companions veteran under Skyrim scarce summer sunlight, scowling and disagreeing, warm backyards of Jorrvaskr wherein everyone trained, sounds of perpetual pounding steel echoing from Skyforge above them. The woman who once revered by all, savior of the world, laughed heartily. Caring not whether anyone could hear them or not. In fact she wouldn’t mind if any of the whelps barging into the room to find their elderly Harbinger was in the presence of a woman decades younger. Silver entwining ring fingers. 

Vilkas smiled then, seeing the woman before him returned into her old self albeit slowly.  Reaching for her slender right hand, cupped perfectly amongst Vilkas' calloused hand. The Harbinger proceeded in performing an action he should have done long ago. A regret he burdened alone, for delaying his invitation many a times. When he did, the girl had cause to reject his advance despite her obvious affection towards the elder wolf. A figure sitting in the dark corner of mead hall, silently crying. A comely woman looming over him as she repeated apologies many times upon her sleeping lover before sinking her teeth into his neck. Gentle, not passionate. Loving, not base instinct. 

Solemnly sliding engraved silver ring upon her ring finger, he then pulled her hand towards his lips. Pale fingers yielded as he kissed them, deliberately lingered longer than appropriate. For nothing could do justice to express his intention towards the Nord turned vampire lord. Dragonborn then did the same on her part. Only she did it shyly and more briefly. How she blushed as Vilkas pressed where she planted her kiss before onto his lips. He realized the eternal girl had been glancing towards his neck, seeking an amulet that was not circling around it. 

'You're not wearing it… the amulet of Mara' she commented, pondering what it could meant. Oblivious to Skyrim marriage custom. Once again she looked at Vilkas' grey eyes, golden wheat field instead of emerald forest. 'Isn't she supposed to be witness in all this?' 

'She is, don't fret about it. You're getting wrinkles' teased the older man. 

'I can't, remember?' 

'Yes you do, around here…and here' said Vilkas gleefuly as he traced the Nord mage's smooth cheek towards her pale forehead, relieved that peach hue blossomed amongst pale snow white. Pressing his lips gently upon her crown in pure affection. Not passion. Burying his nose into the girl's silvery white threads, he caught hints of southern summer. Similar scent she had the first time they met, in the very same room they were in. Farkas and Aela dragging her into the quarters when it was Kodlak's, claiming they had found potential new blood. 

Snuggled comfortably upon the stronger's man neck, burying her nose into warm skin she longed for. Fighting a primal urge to sink her teeth, sucking out life liquid flowing beneath tanned skin. Noticing her shiver, Vilkas titled his head. Inviting. Yet she did not relent to tempation. 'No. Thank you, but no' 

'You're not drinking?' asked the elder wolf in pure amazement, then turning the awkwardness into witty comment 'Oh, so sorry for being an old man. Pretty sure you prefer younger and healthier blood' 

'Make it less alcohol inside their blood too, soddin' dumbass' the mage retorted, sparks of lightning appeared about her the moment she's enraged. Once it brought surprise to the members of Companions. After some time they were used to such outburst, if not a certain older twin decided it was a good game coaxing such reaction from her. Soon the spark died out, leaving trails of magicka in the air. Azure orbs floating about mid-air, shining dimly in Harbinger's quarters. 'I live off potions now. I've been fighting the need for drinking blood. It makes me weak I admit, but …' 

'You don't want to be the monster that turned you into this' Vilkas finished the sentence when his mage broke off, unable to continue. 'I figured that out, back then you took only a little. I had no trouble at all fighting a dozen bandits the next day. It felt good' 

'Oh, Talos' the mage dressed in violet robe snorted. 'Impossible. Insufferable to boot' 

Upon the Harbinger's request, the two laid down on the bed. Not to consummate their love as they should had, but simply appreciating their partner's existence. Vilkas was already out of his wolf armor and changed into a more comfortable tunic he normally wear at night. Nights whence they'd sit in the mead hall above, reading books and discussing trivial matter. The two did the same then. Instead of sitting side by side they leaned against each other. Smaller frame above broad chest. 

As they read whichever book that caught their fancy,  the unlikely pair spoke to each other. Trivial things they thought was beyond them. What happened after they broke off at Castle Volkihar. How the Companions had been doing since she left. What Vilkas have been fighting since the second doom bringer 'died' by his sword. Stories of commissions turned south, some of them downright silly and unbearable. Surviving traitorous Volkihar vampire hunt in Imperial City, methods Vilkas would scoff at but he'd tolerate that evening. 

'Speaking of Cyrodiil, are those noble snobs always insufferable? There's this one brat demanding us to capture a dragon alive! From what I gathered from all his crazy talk was he's about to open a circus? Putting dangerous 'exhibits' on show' 

'Ah that man, I've met him. I believe he was trying to climb the ladder of nobility by impressing his better. What could move the lazy asses better than unusual spectacle? I might or might not have reffered the Companions to him' said the girl casually as she flipped pages of 'Uncommon Tastes'. A curious choice knowing the Nord mage could not hope to cook edible meal, even with proper instructions.

Vilkas grew silent for the moment, after realizing the implication he growled at the vampire lord. 'You were the refferal? Did you know how much it cost us? It took us three tries before we decided to cancel the whole operation. Torvar almost lost a sword arm by the way, thank you very much!' 

'You are very much welcome, dear…and uh, sorry. I didn't think he'd follow through. By the way…about a certain Cheydinhall winemaker. I found him arrested for heinous crime such as dripping virgins blood into his wine to make it more savory, kidnapping young girls from nearby villages and such. I saw your boys did the deed. The Fighter's Guild were furious you know' 

'Can't have you murdering people in their sleep, you're not Dark Brotherhood. Oh, you should have been there. We found their last sanctuary and it was glorious. Such den of iniquity went in blazes as we and Imperial soldiers stormed it, torch in hand. Can you believe they had a werewolf in there? Spiders as well I suppose…none was left alive' 

Dragonborn's face simply lit in excitement the moment she heard the news. 'That's amazing! Why'd I miss that…'  
  
Their idle chat stopped abruptly as Vilkas yawned, jaws opening into unnatural wideness. Reminding the mage she had werewolf as a reading partner. The elder wolf put aside his book, certain sleepiness apparent in his eyes. Normally he'd found respite hard to come by, but with the warmth covering his upper body it came more naturally. Strong arms circling smaller figure, resting his palm upon her hips. 

'Sleepy already? It's not even past midnight' commented the woman in violet robe, shifting her body for a more comfortable position. Still taking her rightful place above the Harbinger's broad chest. Then the palm left her hips, instead it patted her silvery mane gently. Fingers playing around in braided hair, undoing the hairdo.

'You know…you're fine. Even if I'm not there' 

Such words surprised the eternal girl as she hastily broke off from the embrace. She loomed over Vilkas' face, hands on each of his wrinkled cheek. Grey conquering once proud ebony. Sparks of life burned brightly in his eyes, despite the gentle gaze her lover had at the time. Once again their foreheads touched, pressed gently against each other. 'No, no, no… don't say that. You're going to live another decade' 

'Right, sorry. That was unworthy of me' Vilkas said in a sad tone, regretful for making his lover frightened so. Strong muscled arms captured the smaller back, guiding the vampire lord to lay over him. Lips meeting scarred shoulders. Old scars she recognized from a memory. Necromancers running out of magicka potion running towards her blind spot, aiming for her neck. It would have lopped off her head should the elder wolf did not interfere. He paid it with a huge gashing wound on his shoulder. When inquired upon such atrocity, he'd proudly brag it. 'It's worth it. Defending a helpless girl  from a necromancer? What a tale to tell' 

Dovahkiin slapped his chest in annoyance then. Wondering how Vilkas knew what she was thinking and she knew he's got zero affinity with magic. 

'About your hunt…' said Vilkas as he drifted off, eyelids getting heavier by the moment but he fought it as he knew when dawn arrived his beloved would have taken flight where sunlight could not touch her. '…when will..it be done? Will you come back to me by then?' 

'If I do, you'd be the first to know' answered the girl. No matter how old she was, Dovahkiin was always the frail little girl who happened to have been born with a dragon's soul within her. Seeing her lover frowned when she looked up, the vampire hunter continued 'A few remained, but not for long. I know they returned to Skyrim. I'll have their blood soon' 

'I pity those who stand in your way' the Harbinger chuckled then, a welcome melody in Dovahkiin's ear. With his conscience drifting further and further away, Vilkas eased his embrace, letting the girl fall to his sides. She reached for fur blanket and covered both of them under it. 'Isn't it too itchy for you?' 

'No, I grew accustomed to it. You and your damned Companions are, after all, an acquired taste'

'Good to know. Now, do you still remember my promise back then?' 

'Which?' 

'When I pinned you down in Castle Volkihar, before I tried to shred you into pieces' the way he said it casually made the girl giggle. Both knew no matter how intense and messy their fights, they would keep no grudge. An unwritten and unsaid agreement between them. The very mutual decision that kept the other whelps and Inner Circle wondering how they could get along. 

She remembered huge werewolf looming over her, claws digging into her arms. It hurt but she knew the gentle force behind it would never do more than necessary. The Vampire Lord at the time, given up all reasons to live, embraced the very Death himself. Bracing for one final pain before bloodied claw deliver her into Coldharbour. A promise whispered into her ear. 

' _I'd cure myself as Kodlak did. I'll lead a host of our finest warrior into Molag Bal's realm. I'll burn his entire world to find you. Take where you belong, place you deserve to be. By my side in Sovngarde_ '  

The girl chuckled then, 'Oh that was the worst proposal ever. Not that men proposed to me before' 

'Glad you agreed' Vilkas replied, satisfied that she remembered the promise. A promise that will surely turn into reality in the afterlife. Once he believed they should be together in this life as they'd be separated afterwards, but he changed his mind. They had been separated in their mortal coil. It would be fair should they be reunited in the next life. Knowing that Kodlak Whitemane would smile upon his arrival into the mead hall, hand in hand with Dovahkiin herself, he could descend into peaceful slumber. 

'Vilkas?' called his beloved. Vilkas did not answer but turned his head towards where the comely woman laid beside him. Eyes making contact. Bashful shy meeting serene peace. She too was about to fall asleep. She chuckled as fingers trailed upon edge of her lips, wiping dripped saliva. Something never change. ' _I love you_ ' 

_'I love you too_ ' replied Vilkas, struggling to keep his eyes open. He watched her drifted off then. Satisfied with the steady breathing and peaceful expression he had not seen for too long, he too fell asleep. His expression turned serene as his head fell sideways, stubbled cheek touching silvery fields. Scent of southern plains and Dovahkiin's breathing lulled Vilkas into deep slumber. 

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Host of battle hardened warriors behind him. Fabled Dragonborns standing by his side. The very three who had aided the final battle against Alduin, Eater of the World. Beyond the unworldly dark blue plains were host of demons. Behind them a city cursed so by the ruler of the realm. Shivering Isles seemed to be a better place for a summer vacation. Exact imitation of Imperial City, if not a mockery to its glorious tower. In place of White-Gold was twisted dark as branches and spiked buildings sprouted off from its sides. 

Within the accursed city was his beloved, an unwilling hostage of Molag Bal. Alongside other Companions and honorable warriors who died in the hands of vampiric forces. Many joined his cause for they too had their beloved taken away unjustly from going to their rightful place in the afterlife. A brief separation that would about to be broken. Demons sneered at a host smaller in number, overly confident that the two armies would fight in a place advantageous to the dark forces. None of the warriors relented at the sight of equally dark dragons and schythe-armed demons joined the ranks. 

Vilkas raised his sword, initiating the start of battle. War cry shook the air, even the dark skies seemed to tremble in fear of the incoming wrathful souls. Strong hand tapped his shoulders as two figures stood by the elder wolf. To his left was Kodlak, smiling gently. Yet the burning flame in his eyes indicated he was looking forward to battle. To his right was younger twin Vilkas loved his whole life and even in the after. The three of them looked at the host of demon serenely. Knowing they'd win a hard won battle.  

Visage stoic, yet confident. Vilkas lowered his sword. Sky shattered then, as the culling of Coldharbour began.


End file.
